


When our someday comes

by ScQ



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScQ/pseuds/ScQ
Summary: When Lexa chooses to fight in the Final Conclave, Clarke Griffin faces yet another impossible choice.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	When our someday comes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cat2000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cat2000/gifts).



Lexa choosing to fight in the Conclave wasn’t part of Clarke’s plan. 

After all that she and Murphy had done to save her life -- digging out the bullet, stopping the bleeding, sneaking her out of Polis under the cover of darkness and carrying her to Niylah’s trading post -- all that, just for her to die now.

The night Lexa was shot, Polis had been told she was dead. Titus had thought she was, with her breathing so faint that he had removed the flame and prepared it for her successor. By some miracle, though, Clarke, Murphy and Niylah had managed to save her, and keep her hidden for the next few months while she recovered. Clarke had thought it best to not mention the former commander was still alive during this time, and she told herself it was because right now Lexa was vulnerable to anyone wishing her harm, and that Lexa's responsibilities would pressure her back onto her feet before she had recovered.

In the back of Clarke's head, though, she had this idea that maybe now Lexa wouldn't have to be a leader. Maybe Clarke could hide her away from the world forever, so that she never had to make another one of those difficult decisions that she and Clarke had been having to make for so long now. And it had been nice, playing pretend like that every time she snuck away to visit Lexa. They could lie next to each other and not have to worry about Clarke's people, or Lexa's people, or anybody else tearing them away from each other. That dream had shattered, of course, when Lexa recovered and walked back into Polis just in time for the Last Conclave. 

The people had been shocked to see her alive. And all of the hiding, the secrecy... it had lessened their opinion of her somewhat, despite the fact that it hadn't been her call at all. Clarke had no doubts that the people would still listen to her, though; she could take the flame again and lead them. But Lexa was firm in her beliefs that, since the flame had been removed from her head, she was no longer commander. In order to prove that she was still fit to lead them, she must emerge victorious in this final conclave.

She lowered her head to let Gaia place the Trikru symbol around her neck. They exchanged a meaningful look, and a few hushed words that Clarke couldn't make out as she approached them. Gaia glanced at Clarke and gave her a brief nod before walking off to let her talk to Lexa in private. 

"Clarke," Lexa greeted her. If she was nervous about the upcoming fight, her face didn't show it. "Are you here to wish me luck, or to try and talk me out of this?" 

Clarke hesitated. She knew she should be showing support, but she couldn't just stand by and let the woman she loved join a battle to the death against 12 enemies. Every clan had picked their best warrior, and although Clarke had seen Lexa defeat Roan once already, she had no idea how she would fare against the others. The most concerning opponent was, of course, Luna, who claimed she would have beat Lexa in their first conclave, had Luna not fled the fight. Luna, who also claimed if she won this current conclave, she would not allow anyone to use the bunker, and instead let death take all of humanity. 

But Clarke had a plan. Before the Conclave was over, she planned to sneak away and take the bunker for Skaikru. That way, even if Luna won, she wouldn't be able to wipe out humankind the way that she wanted. Some people would keep living -- Skaikru would keep living.

She wanted to take Lexa with her. More than anything. The next five years were going to be grim inside that bunker, but with Lexa beside her it wouldn't seem so bad. So when Lexa volunteered to fight... Clarke's plan wavered. 

"Lexa, you don't have to be in this fight," said Clarke. "Flo is ready and willing to fight in your place. He's a great warrior." 

"He's slow, and he doesn't think well under pressure," Lexa replied levelly. "Clarke, I am Trikru's best warrior, and I am the former commander. So yes, I have to fight." 

"Your wound --" Clarke started, motioning towards her stomach. 

"It's healed." She smiled at Clarke. "You did a great job." 

It was Niylah who deserved most of the credit for that. Clarke had removed the bullet and stopped the bleeding, but everything else had been Niylah.

Clarke swallowed. She was afraid to tell Lexa the truth about her plan for the bunker. She knew, deep down, that Lexa wouldn't agree with what she was doing. Lexa believed in this tradition as much as Clarke believed in saving humanity at all costs. She couldn't tell her what she was doing without risking the entire plan being exposed. So the choice became -- and the choice she was dreading having to make was -- put her faith in Lexa to win the Conclave and save humanity, or choose humanity's much saver option and leave Lexa behind?

"Don't worry," said Lexa, who had noticed Clarke was on the verge of tears. She reached out with her hand and squeezed Clarke's shoulder affectionately. "If I win the Conclave, there will be room in the bunker for you and Abby. I promise you that." 

Clarke closing her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Lexa, please," she said. "Please, I'm begging you. Don't fight in the Conclave. Just... just come with me. I thought I'd lost you before. I thought you were going to die when Titus shot you. I can't do that again. I can't lose you again." 

"It's my decision to make," said Lexa, and although her eyes were kind, her tone was resolute. "And it's been made." 

Clarke knew from experience that there was no use arguing with her when she was already so determined. Unless Clarke was willing to share more information concerning her intentions, which she wasn't, any further discussion on this matter would be pointless. More than anything, she wanted to speak freely, but she couldn't, not about this. Taking a shaky breath, the blonde nodded slowly. She would have to make this decision on her own, but for now -

"Okay," she breathed. Lexa's hand still rested on her shoulder -- Clarke took it in hers and rubbed her thumbs along the back of her hand. Taking a step forward, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips against Lexa's. She hoped harder than she'd ever hoped for anything that this wouldn't be their last kiss. And she hoped she would have the strength to make the right decision, whatever that may be, when the time came. Clarke pulled away before her shaking became too noticeable. "Good luck, Lexa. You can do this," she said, and she hoped that she truly believed that. 

They stayed together until it was time for the warriors to go to their assigned areas and wait for the battle horn. Octavia was one of the first to leave the room, and she met Clarke's eye. Clarke nodded to her, and the realization hit her that, even if Lexa won, Octavia would die. And Clarke wasn't ready for that, either. Lexa smiled over her shoulder at Clarke before following Octavia out of sight, and Clarke took a mental picture of her. In case this really was their goodbye. Then she went to wait with the other clan's representatives. She watched as a man walked around the room and lit 13 candles, one candle for each clan, in preparation for the conclave. 

* * * * *

* * * *

* * * * *

Three hours in, and Azgeda's candle was extinguished. Strangely, Clarke felt a pang of sadness in her chest for the loss of Roan, but she was too stressed to properly mourn him. Her attention fell to the Floukru candle. Its flame was still flickering on the top: Luna was still alive. Then on to Skaikru's candle -- lit as well: Octavia was alive too. Clarke's eyes then moved to the Trikru candle, where her gaze lingered. It, too, was still burning bright. She felt tears welling in her eyes and she shut them, biting on the inside of her lip until it hurt. It was time: she couldn't delay her decision anymore. Opening her eyes, she turned away from the candles, and away from the nervous group of people clustered around them. 

Clarke caught Jaha’s eye and motioned for him to follow her. Once they were safely alone and out of everyone’s earshot, she stopped and waited for him to catch up. He had a knowing look on his face, like he already knew what she was going to say. 

It was like she could hear Lexa’s voice, Lexa standing outside Mount Weather, in a time that felt like centuries ago. Like Lexa was telling her what to do. _I made this decision with my head, and not my heart,_ said the clear voice of the commander, echoing in her head. 

“Get everyone from Skaikru; take them to the bunker,” she said, forcing confidence into her voice. 

There was a chance -- a good chance, even -- that Lexa would win the Conclave. And if she did, her last thoughts before the death wave hit would be knowing that Clarke had dishonored the Conclave. That Clarke had betrayed her. There was also a good chance, though, that Luna would win the Conclave. And if she did, Lexa would be dead already, and at least some of humanity would live to see another day. Ultimately, Clarke just wasn't willing to risk the extinction of their entire species on hope alone. 

They gathered Skaikru up quickly, and nobody among them had much of a problem with it. It seemed no one was too keen on betting their lives on Octavia Blake's victory, and they were happy to have a safe place to survive for the next five years. In fact, the only person they had to forcibly drag into the bunker was Bellamy.

Clarke watched the bunker door seal shut, and felt the tears she had been holding back finally roll down and burn against her cheeks. 

Beside her, Jaha passed her a glance and said, “I know this wasn’t an easy decision, Clarke. But for what it’s worth, it may well be the decision that saves humankind.” 

_My head, not my heart._

“Maybe,” said Clarke. But they were still disrespecting Grounder traditions, values. There was a part of her now that was hoping Lexa wouldn’t win, so she wouldn’t bear witness to what Clarke had done. “I hope so.”

The next few hours passed slowly. Clarke watched her people as they walked around the bunker, chatting amongst themselves. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, the best they had been in for a while now that they felt somewhat safe.

But Clarke was trying her best to go numb, to feel nothing so that she wouldn't have to feel the pain of losing Lexa, which was currently crushing her down. 

The pain, and the guilt. Guilt for locking Lexa out, for betraying the other clans, and for stealing the home that others above her were fighting for, dying for. And when she heard Octavia's voice on the radio, she tried her best not to think of how that meant Lexa was dead. She tried not to think about all the ways she might have been killed. She tried not to think that, however she had died, it would be more merciful than the fate Clarke would have given her: fading slowly, painfully outside the bunker until the Death Wave hit. 

* * * * *

* * * *

* * * * *

It seemed fitting to Clarke that, after what she did, she was one of the people who ended up on the wrong side of the bunker door when Praimfaya wiped out the world. Clarke sheltered in Becca's lab until the Death Wave had passed, and her newly mutated nightblood protected her from the intense radioactivity that followed. Even so, she was just barely surviving for at least a month in this harsh, lifeless environment.

Finding Shadow Valley had been something of a miracle. 

Shadow Valley. It was the first time Clarke had seen green since Praimfaya, and she could almost cry in relief. The radiation must have passed over this place.

Clarke hurried into the valley, eager to be surrounded by trees again. She closed her eyes and breathed in the smell -- it smelled like bark and dirt, but more importantly it didn’t smell like the ashes she’d been breathing in for so long now. She could hear water rushing from a stream nearby, and she followed her ears until she found the source.

Immediately, she crouched beside it, cupping water in her hands and drinking it quickly. Never in her life had she been so grateful for water. Once her thirst had been quenched, she sighed and stood up. She was about to step in -- clothes and all -- just to try and wash some of the ashes and radiation off of herself, when she saw a movement. 

Someone was walking in her peripheral vision. Her hand instinctively started reaching for her gun, but it froze and fell away when she turned her head and saw who it was.

 _“Lexa?”_ Clarke gasped, gaping at the woman in front of her.

Lexa looked surprised too. From the looks of her, she had been living in Shadow Valley for a while now -- her hair was loose, and neat and clean. It tumbled over her shoulder in a way that reminded Clarke of how she looked on their first night together. The night Lexa was shot. Her skin was unblemished and her clothes looked fresh. Maybe in another situation Clarke would’ve felt embarrassed about how gross she must look in comparison, but she was too relieved (and exhausted, quite frankly) to care.

Lexa smiled, and although it was brief, Clarke thought it was the widest smile she had ever seen from the former commander.

Then she remembered Octavia showing up at the bunker door. Octavia had won the Conclave, and she had done it by killing her opponents. All of them. Lexa shouldn’t be alive. “Am I… dead?” Clarke asked quietly. It would make sense. Maybe this patch of green in an otherwise barren landscape _was_ too good to be true. “Is this some kind of afterlife?”

“No,” said Lexa. “Not that I’m aware of.” Her green eyes were shining with life as she glanced around them. “This is what’s left of Earth,” she said.

“Then how are you…?” Clarke began, her voice cracking. She didn’t realize she was almost crying until her vision started to blur. With one small, shaky gasp, she stepped closer to Lexa. Her nose brushed against Lexa’s cheek before she kissed her.

It couldn’t have been much more than a month -- or maybe two -- that she’d been out here on her own, but it felt like much longer. She had been preparing for five years alone, doing nothing but surviving in a harsh, barren landscape. And now she was here, in this green valley, in the arms of the woman she loved, the woman she thought was dead -- oh, and Lexa’s arms came up around her, holding her tighter -- and suddenly her suffering stopped. Clarke didn’t think it was a stretch at all, to think she was dead. Or hallucinating at least. But she would give Lexa the benefit of the doubt. She pulled back, blue eyes wide, looking up at Lexa. “How are you here?” she croaked.

“Clarke…” Lexa breathed, her expression practically mirroring Clarke’s. Her lips found Clarke’s again and her hands brushed along her shoulders, arms, her waist, as if she were also checking to make sure Clarke was real. Their mouths moved together until finally Lexa broke the kiss to catch her breath, wrapping her arms around the blonde and pulling her into an embrace. Clarke buried her face in Lexa’s shoulder and took a deep breath. Neither felt the need to move for a long while, and they stayed there, silent and still, just breathing one another in.

Eventually, and still without speaking, Lexa took Clarke by the hand and led her back to her cabin, where they stayed until the sun went down.

* * * * *

* * * *

* * * * *

“I headed for Shadow Valley the minute I could leave without being spotted. On horseback, for as far as she could carry me, and then on foot." Lexa and Clarke lay in bed facing each other. Clarke had propped herself up on her elbow to listen as Lexa told her story. "This place has always seemed so sacred. I had a feeling even the radiation wouldn’t touch it," Lexa said. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and a faint smile crossed her face. "And I was right.”

Clarke thought it was probably the lower altitude rather than the sacredness that had saved this place, but she kept that thought to herself.

Lexa told her how, after she and Octavia had killed Luna, they were the last ones standing. Reluctant to fight each other, they had talked long enough to realize they both wanted the same thing for the bunker: to share it between the 13 clans. Fortunately they were inside a building and out of any scout's eyesight for this discussion, so it wasn't difficult for Lexa to give the clan symbols she had collected to Octavia, and for Octavia to return to the Tower and claim the other 12 warriors were all dead. 

Clarke wondered if one of the reasons Lexa had spared Octavia's life was because she was Skaikru. Because she was one of Clarke's people. She didn't ask. 

"I'm just glad you're okay," said Clarke. "I knew you were one of the strongest fighters out there, but when I heard Octavia on the radio, I thought... I really thought..." She trailed off with a shake of her head, not wanting to think about the way she felt when she thought Lexa was dead. 

"I know. I'm sorry I put you through that, Clarke." Lexa's slender fingers found Clarke's hand under the covers and squeezed it. Clarke flashed her a quick, tight smile in response. Lexa paused, then she spoke again, "Did Octavia do as she said? Give every clan a place in the bunker?" 

Clarke nodded. "Yes," she said. She swallowed hard, knowing she had to tell Lexa the truth about what she'd done. It would be so much nicer if she didn't tell her, and technically speaking she never really had to. But she knew herself well enough to know that if she said nothing, the guilt would eat her alive. She had to say it, even if it meant she'd be alone for the next five years. 

"Why aren't you with them?" asked Lexa. 

She took a deep breath. Here it goes. “Lexa… there’s something I have to tell you.” 

Lexa could definitely hear the tone shift in her voice: she shifted a bit closer to Clarke and her eyes focused.

Clarke bit her lip, then continued. “I took the bunker for Skaikru, before Octavia won the Conclave. If Luna had won… that would’ve been the end of the human race. I couldn’t take that chance. And I wanted you to come with me, but, you wanted to fight and I didn't know how to change your mind… I’m so sorry,” she said, and she meant it. She _was_ sorry, although there was a small voice in the back of her head telling her she would do it all again, if she had the chance. Clarke tried her best to ignore it. “I know I shouldn’t have done it,” she said. 

“And you banished yourself because of it?” 

Clarke shook her head. “No. They took it back and divided the spaces between the 13 clans. Octavia kept her promise. I left because…” she trailed off and sighed. Long story. “I was trying to save a friend," she summarized. 

Lexa looked thoughtful, like she was processing what Clarke had said. She didn’t look mad, though, which at first surprised Clarke. Clarke had dishonored one of the Grounder’s most important traditions; Lexa should really be furious. When was the last time Clarke had seen her furious? It felt like lifetimes. As she thought about it, though, she realized if there was one person who could understand her choice it would be Lexa. Lexa, who had abandoned her at Mount Weather to save her own people. Lexa, who let a few die at TonDC to save the many. Lexa knew all about difficult decisions.

“You did it for your people,” Lexa said after a moment of hesitation. She was choosing her words carefully, but she sounded sincere, like she meant every one. “You don’t need my forgiveness, Clarke. The only forgiveness you need is your own.”

Clarke wasn’t sure if that was exactly what she wanted to hear, but Lexa smiled softly and leaned forward to kiss her. And as their lips touched Clarke found a sort of reassurance there -- like things were going to be okay. As long as she had Lexa, as long as they were together, things were going to be okay.


End file.
